by Tiya Rayne
“I think if I had known you when I was a kid, a lot of my life would be different now.” His voice is low, almost as if this is a conversation he’s having with himself.
“That’s not how it works,” I say, leaning into the warmth his body is offering. “My Grams once told me, everything happens at the right time. We met exactly when we were supposed to.”
He pauses for a moment, admiring me. The way he looks at me makes me feel empowered. As if I’m something rare and beautiful.
The next words out of his mouth co-signs my thought. “Wise and beautiful,” he says before pushing a stray hair behind my ear.
“We all have to be something, right?”
This earns another laugh from him. How is it the sound of a man’s laughter can be so damn sexy?
“I should let you go.” I know he’s talking about the fact that it’s so late. However, the way he says it, and the way his brows pinch together when he does, makes me believe he’s talking about something else.
“It’s getting kind of late.” I glance down at my watch. “It seems when I’m with you I tend to forget I have other responsibilities.”
Again, he pinches his brow as he replies, “Same.” He takes a step back, taking his warmth with him. “Goodnight, Malia. Text me when you’re home safe.”
“Goodnight, Lucien.”
I climb in my car. Like last night, he watches me until I leave. I have to be careful with him. I like him more than I care to admit, and for me, that isn’t always a good thing. For the first time, I have someone else to think about. At the end of the day, Emory will always need to come first.
Chapter 10
Little Nerd Cave
Lucien
* * *
I scan over the information the Church sent me again, reading the same line for the fourth time. I’ve been at this for hours, ever since I left Malia last night. I need to focus, but I can’t stop thinking of her.
My meal consists of a warlord. It seems I’m not the first agent in the Church who has had him on their plate. Takar Rasheed is a hard man to kill. It’s damn near impossible.
I press a hand to my head. This is the type of stuff Seth gets high off of. No doubt he will take this task as a challenge. Even though something inside of me is telling me to stay clear of this Rasheed, I know my brother will run head-first into it.
Tapping into one of my well used satellites, I upload the picture I have of Rasheed, allowing it to scan all his features. The computer then goes through every camera in the world to find a match. A search like this could take a while.
My other monitor beeps, letting me know the flash drive for Hawk has been cleaned. I smile to myself. Angel never told me what she was going to put on the flash drive, only that she wanted one no one to be able to view it without my help.
Thinking back, she gave me so many signs something was about to happen. Our last real conversation plays back in my head.
“Can I be honest with you?” she said as she flipped her long black hair over her shoulder.
“Always.” At the time, I was so busy trying to break into bank records for a job, I didn’t focus on the dark circles under her eyes or the way she seemed to lack her usual energy.
“This thing between you and your brother…” She paused when I stopped and looked up at her. Even when she was a part of the nunnery, she knew mentioning Seth during our sessions was a no go. However, instead of changing the topic like she knew to do, she powered forward. “You’ve got to get that shit worked out.”
“Angel, I don’t want to discuss him.”
She lifted a brow in warning. “Well you’re going to. The things I’ve done and will do for my sister are endless. She is a part of me. Doesn’t matter how different we are, there is no me without her.”
I scoffed. “Has your sister ever brutally murdered a group of boys and left you to take the blame? Has she continuously done whatever she wanted to do despite you having to be the one to deal with the consequences? Do not tell me about Seth, and don’t compare your relationship with some fictional sister to my very real brother.”
At the time, I didn’t know her twin was real. I thought she made her up to build rapport with me while she was in service at the nunnery. Her face after my outburst comes back to me and I feel like an idiot.
Not only was she revealing her true self to me in that moment, but she was trying to be a true friend. If only I had listened to her. Not about Seth. There’s no salvaging our relationship.
The picture I’ve been waiting on finally downloads. I pull it up on another computer screen, examining the gruesome photos. Rasheed has no problem wiping out an entire village to get what he wants. I understand why the Church wants to take him out, but I still have this feeling in the pit of my stomach, this isn’t a job I want to take on.
“Are you still being a pussy and ignoring me?” Seth’s voice brings my attention briefly from the computer screen in front of me.
I’m in my private office. The place where he knows he isn’t allowed.
“I’m working.”
“No, you’re avoiding me. Hiding out in your little nerd cave like you used to do when the boys at the orphanage picked on you.”
I pause my fingers on the keyboard. He’s baiting me, I know he is. However, I don’t look up at him.
“What do you want, Seth?”
“I want to talk about her,” he replies. I fist my hands, my short nails digging into my palms.
“I don’t want to discuss, Malia.”
Silence greets me, I still will not look at him. The stunt he pulled yesterday by going to her shop is proof Seth has become unstable. He is more of a liability nowadays than an actual accomplice. He’s a rabid dog off his leash.
“Do you really believe I would have done something to hurt her?” he asks testily.
This time I do turn around.
“Is that even a real question?”
“You know I couldn’t.”
“Can you be so sure about that?” I snarl. I don’t have to remind him of Robin.
I can never get that scene out of my head. Waking up to find what Seth had done to her. All that blood. In the end, her entire body fit inside of a single kitchen garbage bag. That’s how many pieces he hacked her into.
He sucks his teeth. “That bitch was going after our brothers. I did you a favor. Plus, she wanted you to get rid of me.”
That’s one of my brother’s flaws. He has no idea how to handle things outside of violence. Seth only has two settings, fuck or kill, friend or foe. If you’re not with him, you’re his enemy. There is no in between.
“Had you waited, you would’ve known I was already setting things up for her. She was about to be tossed in a prison cell for life.”
He gives a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “My way was easier.”
“That’s your issue. You have to learn there are other ways to solve problems.”
“How well did those ways serve you when those group home kids were pinning you down, jamming shit up your ass?”
At his words the memories bombard me and I find myself gasping for breath. My fingers ache from being in tight fists. I’m spiraling fast.
The lessons I learned from the Church training kick in. Starting at one hundred I count down in my head. I have to fight to keep from going to a dark place, to keep him from winning.
“Look at you,” Seth taunts. “And you think I’m the one who doesn’t deserve her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Seth,” I bellow so loud my head throbs. I clutch my hands against my temples. Only he can make me lose control this way.
“Admit it,” he continues. “The real reason you don’t want me anywhere near her is because you know, if she had the choice, she would choose me over you.”
I shoot to my feet, my fingers tapping at my side. Fuck that counting bullshit. As soon as I make up my mind to let out my pent-up anger, the alarm goes off on my satellite search, letting me know it has located Rasheed.
I sw
ing around to my desk with the twelve monitors and three keyboards. It seems Rasheed is right outside of Sierra Leone. I’ll need to pull out the drones to track and chip his phone. That’s going to require a little more time. Of course, it would be easier if I could get to it in person, but no way would I be back in time for my movie date with Malia tomorrow.
The simple reminder of the date has the ability to cage the anger inside me. When I turn back around, I find my office empty and the door ajar. Seth is gone, and the only thing peering back at me is my reflection in the mirror beside the door.
This argument with my brother isn’t over. I know Seth, he’ll wait to bring it back up. The problem with us is I’ve outgrown my brother and he knows it. Now, I need to figure out what I’m going to do with that discovery.
Chapter 11
Only Friends
Malia
* * *
“Okay, how do I look?” I slowly turn around so the two on the couch can see my full outfit.
This isn’t a real date. I made that clear to Lucien a few times. This is two people with mutual interest, catching up and watching a movie. Yes, one of the two is an absolutely sexy tall drink of water, and the other a very thirsty single mom, but it still doesn’t change things.
“You look like a woman who’s not planning on getting any penis tonight.”
“Grams,” I say in warning as Emory laughs. Placing my hands on my hips, I huff. “I told you, we are only friends. There will be no sex tonight.”
“Well, of course, there won’t,” Grams says, a frown creasing her forehead. “You’re dressed like a trucker.”
I drop my hands from my hips as I look down at my skinny jeans, ballerina flats, and Book Nerd T-shirt. I went a different route for this outing, whereas I may have put a lot more thought into the pie meeting. Yet, I’ve learned the error of my ways. Casual clothes for a casual friendship. At least that’s what I thought before Grams called me out.
“I don’t know if you’re going to meet a man or unload a pallet of produce.”
“I don’t want to give Lucien the wrong idea.” Or myself, but I’ll keep that bit of information.
“The only idea he’s going to get is that he’s going home to a cold shower and a hand job tonight.”
I don’t even try to scold Grams about her language anymore. It’s a lost cause.
“I think you look,” Emory’s tablet computerized voice says before she types in something else. “Comfortable.” The tablet finishes and she shrugs.
Look, it isn’t like my bed isn’t covered in every piece of clothing I own. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to wear tonight. Everything I tried on didn’t seem right. Either it was too revealing or too frumpy. Part of me doesn’t want to lead him on, but the other part of me also doesn’t want to look like a hot ass mess.
I flop down in the nearest chair. “Maybe I should call this off.”
Grams leans up from the couch, placing a hand on my knee. Although wrinkled and aged, her cinnamon colored hand is still as strong as it used to be.
“I know you’re worried,” she says gently. “But you’re getting out of this house tonight if I have to drag you to that man, kicking and screaming.” She stands to her feet and heads into the kitchen.
Emory laughs and I give her a stern look she doesn’t take seriously. Getting up, I follow Grams into the kitchen.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to rush me to date so I can move out. I told you once before, I can find a place close by for me and Em.”
She swings her head to me and pins me in my spot with her dark brown eyes. “Don’t think you’re too old for me to wear out your backside.” She turns back to fill up a kettle with water, I’m assuming to make her favorite nighttime tea. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth. You and Munchkin are staying right here and that’s final.”
I sigh and drop my shoulders like a petulant child. “Well, then what’s the rush for me to find a man?”
Grams places the kettle on the gas stove and turns the fire up before turning to face me. “Because one day, I won’t be here. Despite what you think, granddaughter, I’m getting old.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Old is a state of mind, and besides, you know you’re too ornery to die.”
Her eyes crinkle with her smile. “While that may be true, you still need to be thinking about your future.”
“You do realize I’m an adult now with a child. I can take care of myself.”
She hums in the back of her throat before turning around to take her kettle off the stove. “That child is what I’m worried about. You need help with her. Real help.”
“Grams—”
She turns back to me holding up a hand to stop me. “You’re a wonderful mother, baby girl. Better than I or your mother could have ever been, but there are things you just can’t teach. On that, you have to trust me.”
I sigh and resign to allow her to win this argument. She’s been saying that since the day I brought Emory home. She was so worried about me taking in a child and being unprotected. It’s like she’s planning for a natural disaster now that I’m a mother.
Grams has always been a worrier when it comes to me. It probably has something to do with the way my mom died. It was ruled as a car crash, but they never recovered her head. I know that has always bothered Grams and made her a bit paranoid. However, I still don’t understand her rush for me to find a man.
“When are you going to let me meet this new guy?” Her voice brings my thoughts back to the conversation.
I lift a brow as I watch her pull her tin from the cabinet to retrieve a tea bag. “Never, if I’m lucky.” Even though I know if she really wants to, she will. Sylvia Brooks has always found a way around my secrets.
“You still mad about what I did to that Terry boy?”
I gasp not believing she would bring up Terry Campbell. The brown eyed, dark chocolate boy I spent countless hours fantasizing over in high school. “You chased my prom date off, threatening to cut off his dick with your rusty garden shears.”
She laughs as if I’ve told a joke. “That wasn’t a threat, it was a fact.”
“He never spoke to me again after that.”
“Good, he had shifty eyes.” I shake my head at her. She always has the craziest reasons not to trust people. “I told you about that ex-husband of yours too. He didn’t heed my warning.”
I laugh out loud as I remember Trent telling me my Grams took him to a shooting range and aimed a gun at his dick, advising him that if he ever hurt me, she would turn him into an eunuch.
“And tell me again why you didn’t trust him?”
“He had soft hands,” she scoffs. “I don’t trust men with soft hands.”
I laugh again as I check the time on the stove. That rushing of my blood thing happens like it always does when I think about Lucien. It’s time for me to head to the theater so I can meet him. I wasn’t even this nervous on my wedding day.
“I have to go,” I say, heading into the living room to grab my purse and cardigan.
Grams follows. “Keep your phone on and pay attention to your surroundings. And if he gets out of hand—”
“Aim for the balls,” I reply to the familiar advice.
I drop a kiss on Emory’s forehead. “Don’t stay up too late,” I tell her even though I already know she won’t sleep until I get back.
“Have fun.” She signs.
“Get some dick,” Grams adds. I roll my eyes and shake my head at her.
* * *
***
I arrive at the movie theater a few minutes earlier than the original meeting time. I had planned to wait for him, but I spot Lucien the moment I walk to the front of the entrance.
His hair is combed back away from his face neatly. His square glasses accenting those magnificent eyes. He’s wearing gray dress pants that had to be tailor-made for him.
They hug his long legs and firm thighs perfectly. Even his brown sweater and button up, tucke
d into his pants, fit him well. The brown belt that matches his loafers brings the whole ensemble together. He looks like a million bucks and I look like a trucker. I should have gone with one of the other hundreds of outfits I had lying on my bed.
Lucien approaches me with a smile. Warmth floods my cheeks. He stops in front of me and scans up and down my body with his eyes, taking in my skinny jeans and simple T-shirt. I have an hourglass figure, but my hours have a little more curve to them. I’m decent up top, enough for a man to hold in his hands. My middle is pudgy, but trim, and these thighs and this ass are epic.
“Sorry,” I start to apologize and his gaze finds mine. “I was trying to lean more toward casual.”
He smiles, and when he does it brings out his boyish charm.
“You look beautiful, but that has nothing to do with what you’re wearing.”
Tell me again why I can’t sleep with this man? That’s right, I don’t want a relationship.
“Are you ready to go in?” he asks after I have done nothing but gawk at him with a dumb smile on my face.
“Yeah.”
Lucien places his hand on my lower back and leads me past the ticket booth and into the movie theater.
“I bought the tickets online the night you agreed to come with me,” he says, giving me the most adorable shy smile. “I might have been a bit excited.”
I chuckle. “This is a big movie. I’ve been waiting for it for a while myself.”
He stops, turns to me with a straight face. “It’s not the movie that has me excited.” His reply has my ears ringing from my rapid heartbeat.
He leads me over to the concession stand. “Want to split a popcorn? Or would you prefer nachos?” I can’t even focus on his question because my mind is trained on that moment back there.
I know Lucien agreed on this movie as friends, but I can tell he wants more from the way he looks at me and his comments. And the more he talks, the harder it is to remind myself why I don’t.